The Loneliness of a Telepath
by Defender of the Dogma
Summary: It is the beginning of the 5 year mission, and Spock is utterly alone. There are places in his mind that are empty, and are tearing him apart. But then there is Jim. Not slash.


**This is very early in the 5 year mission, before Spock and Jim became close friends. This is** _ **not reboot universe**_ **. It is origional series universe, just early. (I have no problem with writing reboot, that just isn't what this is).**

 **Disclaimer: I own nada.**

Empty. Spock's mind felt empty. Even on Vulcan, shunned, alienated, a pariah, there had been other minds to fill the gaps. Now they were not there. He was too far away.

Contrary to popular belief, vulcans did not shun all contact. They were in fact a highly communal species, dependent on contact and interaction, they simply did not socialize as most beings did. Virtually every telepathic species needed to be around other telepaths to fill the empty places in their mind that could not be filled by themselves. It was an unconscious contribution, and one they would feel very empty without. It was part of the reason vulcans did not leave their home planet. It was tearing Spock apart now.

There were no other telepaths on the _Enterprise_. No other aliens, either. For the flagship of the Federation, they had a ridiculously low diversity level. Not that it would have helped had the other hypothetical aliens not been telepathic.

There was a certain buzz or hum from humans, but nothing that would fill the void that consumed Spock's mind. It was like pouring a trickle of water into a black hole. It had not been so bad at first. Before they had gone so far from Earth. So far from any other telepaths. There were telepaths on and around Earth, and while the _Enterprise_ was being tested out, it's crew so new and fresh, they had stayed nearer to home.

But now they had left, and there was nothing. It had taken some time; the effect was not immediate or vulcans would be rendered practically incapable of functioning as a species. But Spock's resources were drained now. And there was nothing he could do. Spock managed forward, he was due on the bridge. His gait was more stumbling, but it was still mostly the same graceful stride to which the people on the _Enterprise_ were so accustomed. No one would notice.

"Mr Spock, may you come with me?"

It was the Captain. Captain Kirk. The one who radiated light. "Of course, Captain." The shift was over, and the alpha crew was exiting the bridge. The Captain waited for them to be alone.

"Spock are you alright?"

"I am functional. Has my performance decreased?"

"Of course not. If your performance decreased enough for it to be noticeable I would have you quarantined in sick bay and be warning everyone of an impending apocalypse."

Spock raised an eyebrow. _He was so empty… a hollow shell. Just going through the motions._ "I do not believe…"

"Spock you're dodging the question. Are you hurt?"

"I am suffering no physical injury."

"Well any other kind of injury? Spock I haven't known you long, but for me to even _notice_ something's wrong…"

"Which no one else did, captain. I submit that you are simply imagining things." _So empty, so very empty, there's nothing inside him and he's falling, falling through nothingness…_

"Spock, something's wrong. What is it?"

 _He would not understand. He could never understand._ "Captain…"

"Spock." The captain moved forward, and caught Spock by the forearms. Spock was struggling to stay on his feet, the world was tilting… the starship was tilting. "Sickbay." Spock heard the captain mutter as he began to move toward the comm in the wall.

"No!" Spock interrupted. He had not been on this ship long, but he did not very much like this ship's CMO, and the feeling was mutual. "It is not something…" He was going to say 'which can be cured', but he did not believe this to be the wisest of ideas.

"It isn't what?"

"I cannot…" _He hadn't expected this. He hadn't thought it would be this bad. He'd thought his human half would save him. Apparently it really was good for nothing._ "I am empty." And he didn't know how else to put it, because the _emptiness_ was _everything_ , and it consumed _everything_ , and he wasn't sure if anything _mattered_ anymore.

"Empty?"

"You cannot understand. I thought… my human half… my mind is alone. It cannot bear being alone."

"But there are 400 people…"

"And none of them telepaths." Spock's voice slightly broke at the end, because there was _nothing_ , and the nothingness was _everything_. "My mind… there are holes. I cannot survive this alone."

"Then let me help you."

Spock jerked. What was he saying? Help him? But… there was only one way to do that. And he could never do that to his captain.

"Captain, I cannot-"

"What do I need to do?" His voice was firm, decided. Spock had heard this voice before, though he hadn't known it long.

"Captain the only way for you to assist me would be a mind meld-"

"Then do that."

"Captain, in good conscience-"

"This is killing you isn't it."

"It is not affecting my physical processes."

"But it is affecting your mind. Spock, I won't let that happen to you. I've seen you Spock. You're a good man. I won't let this destroy you."

And that was when Spock realized he might not be so alone.


End file.
